Dancing With A Devil
by XxxForeverStrongxxX
Summary: "I, Kaylin Valentine, never thought I'd end up here. Here is in the arms of someone so dangerous, swaying back and forth, very awkwardly do to his leg, to the sound of an old record that never misses a beat." Kaylin never thought after meeting this stranger named Oswald Cobblepot, that her life would turn completely upside down. NOT FOR SENSITIVE VIEWERS.
1. Chapter 1

I, Kaylin Valentine, never thought I'd end up here. Here is in the arms of someone so dangerous, swaying back and forth, very awkwardly do to his leg, to the sound of an old record that never misses a beat. Although the record never misses a beat, we do, fumbling around in my apartment, probably looking like buffoons to anyone looking in the clear, smudgeless window, but we don't care. Smiling, he looks at me. As soon as I make eye contact, he looks down, a shade of red coming fast to his pale, porcelain cheeks. In his eyes I can see all the trials and tribulations he has been through, all the pain, the sleepless nights, running from something he can't escape from, and all he wanted was somewhere to call home. How we got here, oh it was a bumpy journey.

December 23rd, 2014, was a very nippy day, if I remember clearly. I'm a procrastinator. I was then, and I am now. Shopping for the last of my Christmas presents, I passed by the biggest toy store in Gotham. I stopped looking into the hand print smeared glass. A train track hung from the high ceiling as a small train went round and round over and over again. I turned my attention to the large bear that sat next to an artificial Christmas Tree, also in the window. The brown fur looked so warm compared to the weather outside. A pillow it held between it's two paws read, _Baby Girl_. Bam, it all flooded back as my dam broke.

The day was July 3rd, 2013. I will never forget it. Standing there on December 23rd, all of these memories became fresh in my mind again. On July 3rd, I stood by the air conditioner in the window trying to cool down. At the time I couldn't afford central air in my two bedroom house. With only one air conditioner in the house it got very warm every single day in the summer. Gotham was always so hot in the summer. That's why I kept all of my windows open and my door, too. That was my fatal mistake. It was all my fault. Looking down at my round tummy, I smiled a broad smile. Soon, my little one would get there, and then I wouldn't feel so alone. That never happened. Blam! My front door slammed into the wall leaving a dent.

"Miss?" a voice drew me back to that freezing December. I looked to my left to see a man hobbling towards me. His nose was pouring blood ,and he was as white as a sheet. As a rule of thumb in Gotham, I didn't read the newspapers or watch the news because I didn't want to see the shambles this city was in, so I had no idea who the man in front of me was. Looking back now, I'm glad I didn't. I turned my head left and then right. The usually bustling city was silent, dead silent. Not a soul was on that street with me and the beat up man. My first instinct was to run, but something was keeping my feet stuck in that one place like they were superglued to the concrete. I guess he just looked so innocent, like a child really. "Please," he pleaded with me as he got within arms reach. My car was only a block away, but I was no runner. I was going to stand my ground, not flee like a small child because I was a woman not a girl.

"Who are you?" I said puffing out my chest as if I was going to be able to establish dominance with this man. His face dropped faster than an anvil in those old cartoons I watched as a child as if he was trying to think up an excuse or a fake name. I commanded in a loud voice, "Your real name." His hand stretched out to me. It was just as pale as the rest of him, and, yet, somehow in the freshly fallen snow he was sweating.

He cleared his throat, preparing to speak. "Oswald Cobblepot," he said waiting for me to take his hand. Against my better judgement, I did. I took that clammy hand in mine and shook it. "I know this is Gotham, and strangers are dangerous here more than most places. I need help. Please, I am hurt badly," Oswald pleaded with me. _No, I will not put a random stranger in my car with me. Turn off those human instincts, _I told myself to no avail. My brain was telling me absolutely not, but my heart put myself in that position. _What if it were me freezing to death, bleeding out in the snow? I would want someone's help, too. _

Sighing, I moved closer to him and nodded. "I'm Kaylin. We will get you to my apartment. I'm a nurse at Gotham General. I can patch you up," I told the desperate man before me. His seas of green in his eyes met my oceans of blue. His jet black hair clashed harshly with his pale skin, but in a way it was, dare I say, attractive. Carefully, I moved to his right side and put an arm around his shoulder. He flinched to move away from me as I touched him. "Don't worry," I said, "I'm just going to help you to my car." He nodded slowly, and I placed my arm back on his shoulder.

It seemed like a never ending journey to my car, moving slower than a snail. That was okay though, we passed the time through conversation. "So, I told you what I do for a living. Now, it's your turn to tell me what you do," I prompted to start a conversation with Oswald.

"Nothing as of right now. I'm, uh, sort of between jobs," he responded softly as if he was ashamed.

"That is okay. I've been there, Mr. Cobblepot."

"You have?"

"Yeah," I answered even softer.

Finally, we reached the cherry red Mustang. It was the first car I ever got, and I couldn't bear the thought of ever giving it up. I was tempted to put the blanket I had in the backseat under Oswald to make sure no blood got on my seat, but then again that would have be rude. As soon as I slid myself into the drivers seat, I noticed the gash across his abdomen. It just caught my attention. That's why he was losing so much blood. I looked up to start another conversation as I started the car, but I noticed the look on Mr. Cobblepot's face. Working at a hospital, I knew the look all too well. It was the air of death coming fast.

As I sped down the icy road, I reached for the blanket in the backseat. Finally finding it, I tossed it over Oswald, covering him completely from the neck down. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed his eyes starting to roll back in his head. "No, Mr. Cobblepot, hold on. We're almost there. Stay with me, sir. Please don't let go," I pleaded. I was the desperate one now. I had never lost a patient before. I didn't want to start either. Maybe, if I had moved a little quicker to help, maybe he wouldn't have been in the position he was in.


	2. Chapter 2

With Oswald unconscious, slumped with all his weight on my shoulder, I dragged him up the stairs to my second floor apartment. Laying his head gently on the floor, I rushed around like an ant scavenging food, except I was scavenging medical supplies. "Mr. Cobblepot, can you hear me?" I said trying to get something, anything. "Please don't die on me," I pled with the unresponsive man who barely had a pulse at that point. Taking my needle and stitching thread I began to work on his stomach. The bleeding came to a complete stop, but I feared he was past the point of no return.

Something was metaphorically growing inside of me. There was a heat in my stomach at the thought of losing him. Maybe, it was just because I didn't want to see death, or maybe it was something more. "NO!" his voice was loud as Oswald sat up in a panic. Heavily he gasped for air before turning to me. "You- I- you saved me," he said looking down at the floor. I smiled friendly and nodded. Suddenly, faster than anything I had ever seen before, his lips were pressed against mine. Shocked, I was frozen there. Finally, he pulled away and looked me in the eyes, "I-I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

His shaking hand reached forward slowly. The paleness of his hand reflected under the overhead lights. My blonde hair was being pushed behind my cold ears. "Y-you look so beautiful," his voice shook as he told me. I backed up, taken suddenly by this admission. I knew I had saved his life, but this was a little much. "I-I-I didn't mean to offend," Oswald backed away on the ground, trying to distance himself and myself as much as possible. He could sense my discomfort, but the last thing I needed him to do was try to move too much.

Trying the regain control of the situation, I stood up. "Listen, why don't you go lay down in the spare bedroom. You need your rest. You can trust me, I'm a nurse," I gave him a friendly small smile. Shooting me the same one back, I helped Oswald up from the floor. As I wrapped my arm around him to help him walk, I broke the news, "I'm sorry there was nothing I could do about your knee." He nodded, just trying to focus on walking.

Finally, I got him into the bed. One leg at a time we hoisted him into the plush bed with red silk sheets. "Kaylin, I know this may sound a bit weird, but can you help me take this stupid suit off? I can't sleep like this," he asked me as quiet as a cricket. I nodded slightly and slipped off the jacket first, carefully as not to have stress the abdomen wound. Next, came the collar and button after button, as careful as surgery. Moving down to his trousers my hands slowly unbuttoned the golden button.

After pulling down the black pants, my lingering hand matched the lingering feeling in my chest. HIs creamy skin was perfect. Although riddled with cuts and bruises from some unknown battle, it was perfect. Maybe it was the fact that my eyes peered at him too long, but his covers came flying up to cover his body.

With a sigh, I walked toward the doorway. "Kaylin?" his voice rang. My heart stopped dead in its tracks. Was I going to have to own up to my staring? I wondered. "Thank you," he finally said softly. There was an aura in the room. It was one of unspoken words, feelings not allowed to be felt, and a sense that maybe this was the right thing to do after all.

"Sleep well, Mr. Cobblepot," I whispered into the complete, total, and all consuming darkness. Why did I have to back away? That made him feel like a creep. I'm such an idiot, an idiot that is falling in- no. I thought to myself.

I settled myself into the next room over. My eyes slowly closed as they got heavy. The sound of my breathing brought relaxation. The sound of my own heartbeat making me feel so alone. Then, like a clap of thunder, screaming drew me from my peace. Panicked, I looked over at the wall clock. Its hands read three o'clock a.m. exactly. Running into Oswald's room, he was thrashing in the sheets. "No!" he exclaimed, still in the midst of his nightmare. "HELP!"

Out of instinct, my hands grasped onto his shoulders as tight as I could. "Oswald! Wake up! It's just a nightmare!" I yelled trying to gain his full attention. His eyes shot open faster than a bullet from a gun. The green is flooded. In that moment, I could've turned away, but I didn't. Embracing him tightly, his head nestled into my bare shoulder. I could feel the sweat on his skin. I could feel his hot breath hit my shoulder. In and out, in and out. Somewhere deep inside my heart, I knew this "stranger" was no longer that. There we sat, both just silent and thinking.

"Don't move a muscle!" was screamed at me by the masked maniac on that sweltering July day. I was on my knees on the living room floor. Sweat poured from my pores. I remember looking down at the stained beige carpet. The house was decrepit and a mess, but it was the best I could do on a budget. At the end of the day, I barely had ten dollars for food. Now, I'm going to lose my life in this piece of crap house. I remember thinking as the gun was pointed directly at my head.

"Please, I'll give you anything you want! Just don't hurt me or the baby, please!"

Cool, clammy hands grasp my face gently, tearing my mind away from the horrid memory once again. One simple statement left his lips, "You called me Oswald." That was true. I had never called him anything besides Mr. Cobblepot prior to that moment. My hand slid down his bare chest that was still dripping from the remnants of his nightmare. I wanted so bad to just cling to him and never let go, but I didn't. I stopped, looking down at the floor. The hardwood wasn't splintered or cracked or damaged in any way. I had worked hard to get here. I worked by myself, not with others, and especially not with a man I just met.


	3. Chapter 3

"Penguin, you dirty, dirty boy," a woman's voice rang from the darkened doorway. The darkness outlines every inch of her body. Oswald's face contorted into a grimace. I leaped from the bed towards the doorway with my pocket knife from the bedside drawer in my hand. The blade shined under the yellow lamp light in Oswald's room. It had a yellow handle and black writing. I had gotten it after July last year.

"No, Kaylin!" Oswald yelled at me. _Does he know her?_ I had thought to myself. She stepped forward into the light, casting little shadows on her face. Her dark complexion would have been beautiful if the scowl wasn't placed on her face. "Ms. Mooney, what are you doing here?" Oswald searched for words to say. "Why?"

"Oswald Cobblepot, you know what you've done. This little whore stepped in the way of my plans," her voice was harsh and cold. I narrowed my eyes at her not really knowing how to respond to just being called a "little whore". "Now," she began, "you must die, Penguin." She whipped out her blade.

As I backed up to charge towards this "Ms. Mooney", my arm was yanked to stop me. I glanced back to see Oswald holding my arm with his face scrunched to match the scowl that the woman was wearing. Then, it hit me, the plans she was talking about that is. Oswald had gotten hurt by her or a henchman of her's. I fixed him up, and we were both in danger. "Fish, get out!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Fine, but I'll be back. Trust me, Cobblepot."

"I have to leave. I'm sorry to rush in and out, but I have to go," his words were rushed as he painfully put his suit on piece by piece, wincing all the while. He hobbled himself over to the dresser and put his collar back on. While he was looking in the mirror, I didn't think he could see me. I frowned with tears welling up in my eyes. _Well, there goes my only chance. I screwed everything up_. I told myself in my clustered head.

I didn't really pay attention as he turned around slowly. I didn't even notice his eyes staring at me until a few moments later. Those big green spheres looked deep into my heart. He knew. He could tell what I was feeling deep inside. His sweaty hand lifted my chin up to make me look into his eyes. "Oswald," I began but was cut off by his lips against mine. This time, I didn't resist or pull away. I collapsed onto his suited shoulder and began to sob. My cries were loud and probably not attractive in the slightest way, but everything inside of me came flooding back. Everything I had ever been through in my life was coming back in this one single moment.

His arms awkwardly wrapped around me. I could tell that comforting people was not her forte, but he was trying hard. "Listen, Kaylin, I just don't want you hurt in any way. My life has been nothing but a screwball of pain and disappointment. I don't want you caught up in all of that, okay?" he tried to explain everything away. I didn't care what he had done to get himself here, and I didn't care if I got hurt. I just didn't want him to leave me.

"Mr. Cobblepot-"

"Haven't we moved past that?"

"Oswald, you haven't told me how you got hurt or why someone is after you, but I don't care. I want to help you. Please, just give me the chance. All I'm asking for is a chance," I pled with him trying everything in my power to get him to stay. He sighed, and there I knew he had already made up his mind. "Fine, if you're going. Take this. It's sleeting," I opened the closet door and pulled out a black umbrella with a curved handle. He grasped it tight in his white knuckles, leaning on it to support his leg.

We walked in udder silence to the front door. Oswald used that umbrella like a cane to get there. He opened the red painted door slowly, before he turned to me. The colder air whipped in as we stood there staring at each other. "I guess this is goodbye, Kaylin," he finally broke the silence between us. I nodded and hugged him one more time. "Goodbye," he whispered as he closed the door as he left.

Bum, bum, bum, bum. The sound of my own heartbeat shouldn't have reminded me of how lonely I was. All alone, truly alone, I slid down the wall to a sitting position. _I can't just sit here and pity myself. I have to occupy my time. Twenty four hours ago, I didn't know this man. It couldn't be hard to let him go._ I told myself. At the time, I thought it would be so easy to just let it all go. My eyes closed with my head against the wall.

When I woke up it was already past dinner time. I moved my head left, then right trying to relieve the ache. The sun was setting, and I decided I couldn't sit around the house any longer. Bolting into my room, I scavenged through the neatly packed cherry wood drawers. Finally, I found it and put it on. I reviewed myself in the body length mirror. The body hugging red dress clung close to my curves. My curled blonde hair spiraled down over my shoulders. Prepping my face with foundation and concealer, I put on the rest of my makeup over it, and I topped it all off with bright red lipstick.

I drove downtown to do a little bar hopping. I parked in the parking lot near the alley. I took the dark walkway all the way to the bar's front doors. When I stepped in, the ambiance was the first thing that slapped me in the face. It was so nice, but it seemed so stiff. A comic stood on the stage, and everyone was laughing. Normally, this wouldn't have been out of place, except his jokes were downright terrible.

I took a seat by the bar. "One Strawberry Daiquiri," I requested to the bartender. He begrudgingly did what I asked of him. _Gosh, a little more smiles in this place would be nice,_ I thought to myself as I sipped the strawberry drink. Another man in a suit slipped into the seat beside me. He looked like he had a rough day, too. His lower face was covered in hair, and a black hat sat atop his head. I turned towards him and introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Kaylin."

A small smile came across his face. Man, he was attractive in that moment. "Hello, I'm Harvey." _Harvey, that sounds familiar. Where have I heard that name before? Damn, could that really be him? Harvey Bullock?_ I questioned myself. I must have paused a little too long for his liking because I think it clicked in his head, too. "Kaylin Valentine? It's been a long time," he said to me dropping the smile into a neutral face. My eyes darted around looking for somewhere to run or hide, but it was too late.

"It has, Detective Bullock."

"Really we're going to play like that?"

"What? I'm simply calling you by your official, earned name. You worked hard. You gave up so much, didn't you? Why wouldn't you want to be called that name?" I got mean. He looked down and downed another shot of whiskey. "Or does it remind you too much of what happened, Detective Bullock?"


End file.
